


Not As It Seems Part XIII

by eliniel



Series: Emet-Selch/WoL [17]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood and Gore, Burns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 07:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliniel/pseuds/eliniel
Summary: A few nights after fixing the Warrior of Light's injured wrist, Emet-Selch inquires about the other wounds and scars on her body, leading to a story she wasn't expecting to divulge.





	Not As It Seems Part XIII

**Author's Note:**

> Aoirohi suggested this one and I loved it. I always jump at these kinds of stories, being a burn survivor myself. I hope you enjoy it.

I laid on my stomach in bed, flipping through a book, legs kicked up behind me and crossed. I leaned my chin in my palm as I turned the pages, eyes scanning the words as I turned them. 

The door opened and closed, and I looked up in time to see Emet-Selch walk around the partition, covering his mouth with a gloved hand as he yawned. We watched each other for a few moments before he broke eye contact and he started slipping out of his heavy coat. 

“Tired?” I asked, although I’m not sure why I bothered. He was always tired. 

“No extra training tonight?” he asked, ignoring my question, hanging the coat over the back of a chair. I looked back down at my book, hair sliding over my shoulder.

“Mm,” I hummed. “I decided to rest tonight, especially since my wrist isn’t fully healed yet.”

His eyes went to my injured hand, still bound by his magic. “Is it bothering you?”

“No, no,” I said, waving in dismissal. “But I didn’t want to push it.”

The Ascian dropped into the bed with with me, the mattress making me bounce with the new weight. He took hold of my hand, holding it, palm up, to examine it as I pretended to read. Instead, I watched him out of the corner of my eye, remember the last time he held my hand like that.

When he was finished, he looked back down at me. Quickly, I looked back down at the book and he huffed a laugh. 

“What?” I asked him, lifting the next page, feigning ignorance.

“Were you hoping for something?” I could hear the hubris dripping from his voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I saw him shake his head in my peripherals and my arm was lifted higher. I looked up again to see him press a light kiss to the inside of my wrist. I froze, a shiver running down my spine at the touch. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was doing it on purpose to elicit a reaction out of me. 

He grinned, smugly, at the bumps that rose on my skin and continued leaving a trail up my arm. He stopped, laying a final press of his lips on the straight, white scar on my shoulder. When he moved his head away, he ran a thumb over its length, the arrogance fading. 

“Where did this one come from?”

I looked at it and smiled.

“That is my oldest scar,” I informed him. “My first day of training with the sword.” I breathed a giggle. “They were to give us practice swords. Imagine mine and my opponent’s surprise when there was a tear in my sleeve and blood dripping down my arm.”

Emet-Selch smiled, softly, then pointed to the one across my cheekbone. “And this?”

I sat up. “Are you trying to distract me? I have some very important reading-”

He lifted a brow, then looked down at the book, eyes scanning the words for a moment before I snapped the cover shut.

“Yes, a fictional romance sounds incredibly pressing, my dear hero.”

My face grew hot under his haughty, amused gaze and I looked away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Fine then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “My first _true_ battle.”

“Oh?”

“I was helping top-side on a ship once, fending off a horde of Aurelia during a nasty storm. One of them struck me on the cheek.”

“A jellyfish?” he asked, incredulously.

“The tips of those tentacles are quite sharp with enough speed and force.” I put a finger to my lips, thinking back to that night. “That was the first time I met Y’shtola, actually.”

He continued on, inquiring about the various injuries and marks I’d received over the years. I explained each of them and the story behind them. 

The one on my knee from when I fell out of a tree trying to scout, clipping the skin on a thick, broken branch with a jagged end. 

The circular ones on the back of my other arm where a wild boar had sunk its teeth. Gods, did that one hurt. 

He was inching closer and closer to the large scar that took up the majority of my back. My stomach twisted and my mood shifted when I realized he was almost out of other wounds to ask about. My answers turned sharp and to-the-point without any dramatic flourishing my first stories had.

Finally, he placed a hand gently on my back. “And this?” His voice was quiet and soft, as if he knew the anxiety building up inside me. My skin prickled at the sensation, even through my shirt.

I knew he’d seen it before, but he had never asked. He always avoided touching it and I had vaguely wondered in the past if it was because he was unsure if it would cause me pain. 

I hadn’t expected our night to go like this, though I knew he’d be curious about it at some point. I should have figured when he started asking...

My smile faded. Most of my scars, I remembered fondly, for some reason or another, but this…

I looked down at my lap, folding my hands together tightly.

“You don’t have to tell me. I won’t be offended if you aren’t ready,” the Ascian assured me, removing his hand to push my hair over my shoulder. 

“No, it’s…” I paused, inhaling deeply. “It’s alright. I guess I’ve just never really had a reason to talk about it before.”

“You don’t have to,” he reiterated. “I was merely curious.” I shook my head, giving him a sad smile. I exhaled my breath, the memory building in my mind. 

“It was when the Amalj’aa summoned Ifrit,” I started. I lifted my shirt over my head and turned my back to him so he could see it closer. He removed his gloves and set them to the side. I closed my eyes as he traced the claw marks, the burned and disfigured skin around them, his fingers a whisper of a touch on my back.

_“Retreat! You have to get out of there!”_

“While my companions and I were fighting him back, one of my spells hit him harder than expected. He turned on me.”

_Screaming, shouting. A man in heavy armour waving his axe at the Lord of the Inferno, trying to steal his attention away from me._

_“Hey, you big, stupid oaf! Over here!” _

“But he wouldn’t turn. He narrowed in on me, that burst of magic angering him beyond reason.”

_“Run!” the lancer yelled at me as the demon’s shadow swallowed me whole. I stared up at him, wide eyed, mouth hanging open._

“My party implored me to run, but I’d never faced anything so large before. I must have been frozen in shock.” 

I paused my story, chin starting to tremble as I fought against my fear. Emet-Selch ran his hands up and down both arms, a small comfort.

“But it-”

My voice cracked and I halted my words, then took a few short breaths, trying to calm the panic welling in my chest. He leaned forward, laying a small kiss on my tense shoulder, then pressed his forehead against the blade, as if the sadness of my story was causing him pain. 

_“Run, Gods damn you!” the conjurer shouted at me, jarring me out of my shock. He cursed, readying his healing spell._

_Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion._

_I turned, taking off towards the fiery end of the circular arena we were in. I saw his shadow on the ground. He raised his claw above his head._

“But,” I tried again, battling to keep my voice even. “By the time I turned it was too late.”

_Ifrit brought his hand down upon me, claws swiping down the length of my back, ripping my shirt and searing my skin, leaving me bloody, gruesome mess, strips of flesh barely hanging from my body. _

_I screamed, the pain unlike anything I’d ever felt before. If I knew this was what being a hero entailed…_

_I stumbled forward a few steps before falling face-first into the dirt, the world going dark._

“They cleaned me up and healed me to the best of their ability, but the marks remained. It took everything they had to just keep me alive after the battle had ended.”

When I opened my eyes, the memory fading, my hands were shaking, still clasped together in my lap. The Ascian was quiet, behind me, processing my story. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, finally, voice barely above a whisper, as he lifted his head from my shoulder.

“Sometimes,” I said. “More my mind than my body.” 

“I could…,” he started, his words unsure. “_I_ could fix it, you know.” 

He ran a finger down one of the claw slashes. A chill ran through me. 

“I could make the scars go away, if you so wished.”

I bit my lip, conflicted. In truth, I had thought about having it removed before, but it had been a part of me for long. Sure, it plagued me at times but… It reminded me of where I came from and how hard I’ve worked to get to where I was. How strong I’d become since that day. 

“No,” I said, looking down at my lap. “No, leave them.”

“Are you sure? They seem to trouble you a great deal.”

I nodded, then looked at him over my shoulder. “Getting rid of the scar won’t get rid of the experience. You, of all people, should be well aware of that.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

“Besides,” I began again. “It serves as a reminder.”

“Of?” I looked away again, a small smile playing on my lips.

“Of everything that led me here.” 

I heard his breath hitch, slightly, then a huff of a laugh. He shifted and I felt the reverent press of his lips against the middle of my back, on the disfigured, gnarled skin I bore with me each and every day. 

My back arched as he dragged his lips up, over the deep slashes Ifrit’s claws left behind, the sensation tingling. 

No one had ever…

He stopped at the base of my neck and gripped my waist, tugging me back into his lap. My bare back pressed against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin in the crook of my neck.

I placed my hands over his and relaxed into him, the apprehension I’d felt while the memory played through my mind calming itself as we sat in silence, his presence and warmth like a soothing balm on my very soul.

“Are you alright?” he asked me when he sensed that my mind had stopped turning. He ran his nose along the back of my ear and I leaned into it.

“Mm,” I hummed. “Fine. It’s about time I told someone, anyway.”

He was quiet, again, but after a few long moments, he craned his neck to press a kiss to my jaw.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, hero.” I sighed, relief flooding me. “For trusting me with your trauma.”

“You seemed like the one person who would understand,” I admitted, then smiled. “Just don’t use it against me, Ascian.”

I laid my head back against his shoulder and looked up at him. His chest shook with a small chuckle and he tightened his arms around me.

“I wouldn’t dare.”


End file.
